


Run!

by minyoungis



Series: NCT [7]
Category: NCT (Band), SuperM (Korea Band)
Genre: Banter, Crack, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Humor, I can't believe that's an actual tag, Kissing, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan is a Little Shit, Poor Park Jisung (NCT), Pranks and Practical Jokes, i just think it's neat, idolverse, somebody save mark, y/n is also a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:22:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27025774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minyoungis/pseuds/minyoungis
Summary: “What?” you whisper, suddenly noticing how close he is. You can feel his breath fanning across your nose. “Can we start hanging out at your place again?” he asks, ruining the unintentional moment. “Why?” you enquire, shaking off his effect, eyebrow raised as you keep half your attention focused on what’s happening in the adjacent room and the other half on the conversation.“There are less people to piss off there.“ORYour boyfriend has an oftentimes shocking presence of mind that’s very beneficial to you, and comes in handy when you're in the middle of executing your master plan to steal his bandmate's food from the dorm kitchen.
Relationships: Mark Lee (NCT)/Reader
Series: NCT [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1972162
Comments: 4
Kudos: 48





	Run!

**Author's Note:**

> perpetually blindingly oscillating between 'aww baby' and 'oh bABY' when it comes to one mark lee

“Y/N, no.”

“Y/N, yes.”

“Y/N, maybe?” Jisung meekly asks from his place in between the two of you glaring at each other from either end of the couch.

“Shut up,” you both say simultaneously. He retreats immediately, leaning behind and letting you snap back to doing what you were doing earlier. When Taeyong stuck him there in the hope that his presence might abate the standoff, he hadn’t foreseen the poor child being passingly bullied.

“I won’t do it,” Mark says again, obstinate, lips set in a determined line. “We could get in trouble.”

“I’ll ask Haechan and then you’ll get in even _more_ trouble,” you confidently reply, gratified by the gasp you get from Jisung next to you and vaguely rueful that you had snapped at him earlier.

Mark looks like he’s struggling with himself, fists clenched on his lap as his dark eyes don’t leave yours, fight slowly leaving them in recognition of a lost challenge.

“Fine, but only if Jisung comes along.”

Both of you ignore the boy in question squawking out an alarmed, “ _What?_ ” as he shoots forward, only to be pushed back by you and Mark leaning forward, identical scowls on your faces; yours annoyed and vaguely impressed at his condition and his cocky about managing to cause this minor inconvenience to your, in his opinion, delinquency.

You wonder if you can scare him into agreeing to your terms by glaring hard enough, but you know that he’s probably immune to it by now.

“Fine,” you bite out, cursing his stupid, glinting eyes and the stupid, satisfied upturn quirk of his lips that annoyingly soften the blow of your defeat. “But Haechan is on look out.”

Jisung moans lowly in misery, head cupped in his hands. Mark makes a big show of patting his shoulder in reassurance, accusingly looking at you as if to say ‘ _See what you’ve gone and done to him_.’ There’s a small crack in the façade, as his lips pinch together in an effort to keep from twitching in amusement at the sheer gravity of the situation and how seriously you’re all taking this, and it’s all you can do to not call off the project and drag him to his room and just make out.

He knows. Of course, he knows. And now you’re both playing a different game, a more dangerous game of Who’s Going To Cave First as the staring turns more intense, Mark’s hand subconsciously stilling on Jisung’s shoulder and your arms tightening in their crossed position.

“Backing out? Wanna go do something else instead?” Mark asks, voice low and leaving no room for doubt about the _something else_ he’s referring to. It’s a daring move, one which he wouldn’t have attempted if any of the older members were in the room.

The tiny hitch in your breath is masked by Jisung, who hasn’t quite picked up on what’s going on, whining with suppressed hope, “Yes, _please_ go do something else. This is a very, very bad idea.”

Before you can reply (in the negative, because you aren’t a coward and you will not be side-tracked by Mark’s whore-ish propositions even if he’s looking at you like you’re the camera lens and he’s in the middle of a spicier kind of photoshoot), a curious, excited voice comes from behind the couch, making all three of you snap your necks in its direction to look at the new entrant.

“What’s a very, very bad idea?” Haechan asks, gleeful expression on his face that distantly reminds you of the purple, smiling devil emoji.

No turning back now.

You don’t bother with any preliminaries. When there’s mischief involved, Haechan doesn’t need any convincing. Just an audience and somebody to antagonise.

“Doyoung’s white chocolate,” you whisper-shout so nobody in the kitchen can hear, breath slowing down and brain moving focus to the extraction mission at hand.

Haechan’s eyes gleam in anticipation as he asks unhesitatingly, “What’s the plan?”

Satisfied, you get up from the couch, signalling the new entrant to take your place as you contentedly say, “This is why you’re my favourite.”

Mark scoffs and you shoot him a wink, standing in front and facing the boys. Haechan looks feverish in his excitement, Mark looks partly betrayed and partly amused, and Jisung just looks like he’s regretting every decision in his life that’s led him here.

“Jisung, you’re our first line of defence. You need to lure Taeyong and Jaehyun out of the kitchen and then go make sure Doyoung doesn’t leave his room.”

He whines is consternation and mumbles to himself faintly, “I just came here for food.”

You move on. “Haechan, you’re on look out.”

“I don’t think you’re fully utilising my potential.”

“You can stop everybody at the door with embarrassing stories about Mark,” you cajole, dangling your worm on a hook.

Haechan shushes Mark’s offended ‘ _Hey!_ ’ with a wave of his hand as he scrutinises your unmoving frame, fingers stroking his non-existent goatee. “Do they have to be true?”

“Not at all,” you reply, pleasantly grinning in approval at the way his mind works. He nods in satisfaction and shoots a finger gun at Mark who’s in the middle of an eye roll, before leaning back languidly and stretching an arm along the top of the couch, beginning to mutter encouragement to a defeated and vaguely disbelieving looking Jisung.

You turn to your sullen boyfriend, petulant pout on his face as he sits with his arms crossed.

“Mark.”

He grunts shortly in reply. You’ll take it.

“You’re with me. We enter the kitchen when Jisung gives us the signal. I get the goods, you cover me in case anybody gets in.”

He seems relieved with his position, grudgingly nodding, probably realising that he can get away with pretending to just be in the wrong place at the wrong time if you guys get caught.

“What about the distribution?” Haechan asks, suddenly suspicious.

“Forty, twenty, twenty, twenty,” you reply, first pointing at yourself before running through the people on the couch.

Immediately, you’re assaulted by loud protests of ‘ _Absolutely not!_ ’ and ‘ _I’m going through this shit for twenty percent?_ ’

Your only ally is Jisung, who looks startled at the sudden noise and worriedly shoots a glance at the kitchen door to the left out of which the steady sound of conversation pauses momentarily before resuming once you pacify the clamour.

“ _God_ , okay, fine. A quarter each, are you _happy_ now?” you hiss in annoyance.

They stand down, appeased. Haechan’s evil, gremlin smile is back as he stands up, rubbing his hands together in expectation. “Let’s get this party started.”

Mark and Jisung are significantly slower in their approach, and you try to infuse as much enthusiasm in your voice as you can when you tell Jisung to ‘ _Go, go, go.’_

The rest of you tip-toe towards the kitchen, crouching behind the island counter right outside as Jisung shoots one last pleading look to the ceiling. On receiving no divine intervention, he sighs slowly and shakes his head a bit before squaring his shoulders and entering the kitchen.

You’re crouched in between Haechan and Mark, all of you slightly leaning towards the open door so you can hear what’s happening. Behind you, your boyfriend gently pinches at your waist and you turn around impatiently.

“ _What?_ ” you whisper, suddenly noticing how close he is. You can feel his breath fanning across your nose.

“Can we start hanging out at your place again?” he asks, ruining the unintentional moment.

“Why?” you enquire, shaking off his effect, eyebrow raised as you keep half your attention focused on what’s happening in the adjacent room and the other half on the conversation.

“There are less people to piss off there,” he replies, looking pointedly at you as a loud laugh comes from the kitchen and you hear footsteps approaching. Jisung’s got a bright future ahead of him.

Before you can respond, Haechan’s hissing at you two to shut up and the next second, Jisung, Taeyong and Jaehyun are walking out, the latter two in dance clothes and Jisung wearing a strained sort of smile. The three of you bend down lower, quiet as mice until the youngest in your group shoots a thumbs up behind his back as they all leave the living room, after which you softly but urgently rise.

“Haechan, I’m counting on you,” you say in farewell as he takes his post a few feet from the door, Mark getting antsy next to you.

“Let’s get this chocolate,” he replies with a curt nod, shortly saluting before he leans against the wall, shooting surreptitious glances this way and that completely unnecessarily because there’s only one entrance to the living room and it’s dead ahead. But who are you to begrudge his proclivity for drama?

“Can we get this over with?” Mark sighs, resigned.

You enter the kitchen, eyes focused on the refrigerator. Silently, you walk towards it, signalling Mark to stand behind you as you slowly pull it open, muting the suction as well as you can.

“Why do we have to be so quie-”

“ _Shh_ ,” you harshly whisper, interrupting his dumb question. In the living room, you hear Haechan cheerily say, “Hey, Jungwoo! You remember that time Mark farted in his sleep?”

You stop rummaging around long enough to turn and raise a single eyebrow at a scandalised Mark. “Tha- That isn’t true!” he sputters at your amused expression.

You only hum in response before turning back to the fridge. You spot the wrapper behind a bottle of water and pull it out as you softly grin. “Got it,” you mutter, making to close the fridge, chocolate cover in one hand.

Mark is fidgeting from side to side, waiting for you to finish up and you finally turn around with a victorious smile.

And then from outside, you hear footsteps approaching.

“Doyoung, you wanna watch that interview where Mark’s voice broke three times in a minute?”

“Maybe later. I’m gonna get some food first.”

Immediately, you both freeze.

“What do we do?” you mouth at Mark, panic evident in your eyes.

He looks at you, then at the damning packet in your hands and back up to your face before darting to the door. Any moment now, Doyoung is going to walk in, catch you in the act of stealing his beloved white chocolate and raise hell. An angry Doyoung is a scary Doyoung.

You’re still frozen in place, mind racing but reaching nowhere, when Mark gets this determined look on his face.

This had better be good.

In a single, long stride, he’s right in front of you, eyes blazing as he mumbles, “Let’s get this chocolate,” echoing Haechan’s words from earlier before he bends down and kisses you firmly, arms coming around your waist.

You squeak in surprise against his lips before you relax and your eyes flutter shut, hand holding the cover trapped safely out of sight between your bodies, your other arm coming up to rest on his shoulder.

It is, in fact, good. You’re vaguely impressed by his enterprise and his…er, methods.

Distantly, you hear Doyoung gag as he enters the room before he whines, “Guys, come on, not in the _kitchen_.”

Mark grins against your lips as you both pay no mind to his protests. If anything, it only spurs you further, him tightening his arms around your frame and you pressing closer.

And then, in the silence that follows, the loud sound of plastic crinkling emerges from somewhere near your abdomen.

For the second time in maybe as many minutes, you’re frozen in place, body stiff as Mark stills too.

He slowly, very slowly moves away a minuscule amount so as to not disturb the cover any further. “Do you think he left?” he mumbles, too scared to turn around and check.

Your eyes are still closed, preferring to believe that you’re both alone in the room, but the dangerously low voice that comes from somewhere near the entrance of the kitchen says otherwise.

“What was that?” Doyoung asks in a tone that suggests that he knows _exactly_ what it was.

Of course, at that moment, Haechan enters, observes what’s going on and quickly says, “I tried to warn you. I just wanted to spare you the sight of Mark and Y/N sucking face.”

You peek over Mark’s shoulder, subtly shaking your head, trying to tell Haechan to _shut up, fool_. In the movement, the offending wrapper lets out another loud sound.

Your eyes snap to Doyoung. He looks like he’s forcing himself to be calm, taking slow, deep breaths but his eyes fixed on Mark’s back, like he’s trying to use X-ray vision.

“Is that my chocolate?” he asks threateningly softly. Haechan’s once cheerful expression morphs into one of abject worry and Mark’s breath hitches.

There’s only one thing to do then.

_“RUN!”_

At your yell, Mark jumps away from you, faking left before running right, Doyoung’s fingertips skimming the fabric of his hoodie. With an anguished yell, the aggrieved man turns his attention to you, eyes narrowed at the packet in your hands. Behind him, you see Haechan and Mark waving wildly above their heads, the former making monkey noises just to add some spice to the scene.

You wait until he advances a little closer, wait for him to finish his slow threat ( _“Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you,”_ ), before lobbing the packet quickly over his head as you shout, “INCOMING!”

Both you and Doyoung watch with bated breath as the chocolates soar, arcing higher, going beyond his outstretched fingers, just out of Mark’s reach before landing neatly in the hands of a startled Jisung.

There’s silence for a long second. The boy looks confused, like he just caught the thing on instinct. His gaze slowly moves from the cover to everybody staring straight at him with varying degrees of desperation.

“Jisung,” Doyoung starts cautiously, gently moving forward so as to not startle him. “Why don’t you give me the chocolates?”

You follow suit, standing next to him. “Jisung,” you state, voice firm. “Twenty five percent.”

He scans each face standing in the row in front of him, from Mark to you to Doyoung to Haechan. His expression becomes sly, eyes narrowing, jaw set.

“You know what?” he begins, backing away but still keeping an eye from all of you. “I came here for food. And I’m going to leave with food.”

He holds up a commanding hand as all of you open your mouths, causing you all to abruptly shut them.

“Bye,” he says simply before rapidly walking backwards to the living room, chocolates dangling from his hands.

“What just happened?” Haechan asks, astonishment writ large on his face.

You’re grudgingly impressed and you’re about to say as much when you feel a gentle touch on your forearm. You turn to Mark only to see him looking warily at a slowly huffing Doyoung who bears a shocking resemblance to a volcano about to erupt.

Silence.

_“RUN!”_

**Author's Note:**

> i'd love to hear feedback, spread the love!  
> find me on tumblr (where everything is cross posted) at @min-youngis :D


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